


in the back corridors

by surexit



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett, Generation Kill
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-15
Updated: 2013-04-15
Packaged: 2017-12-08 14:33:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/762440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surexit/pseuds/surexit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Corporal Ray Person, one of Ankh-Morpork’s finest and brightest by his own estimation, and a pain in the arse by his sergeant’s, turned a corner in Kneck Keep and came upon two women kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in the back corridors

Corporal Ray Person, one of Ankh-Morpork’s finest and brightest by his own estimation, and a pain in the arse by his sergeant’s, turned a corner in Kneck Keep and came upon two women kissing. They were clutching one another fiercely, their hands twined together so tightly that they were white-knuckled, and he debated not disturbing them for a moment. In the end, as always, he couldn’t resist. “Well, _hello_ , ladies,” he said. At the sound of his voice, they moved with surprising speed, spinning to face him before he’d even finished speaking. He noted that the tall redhead immediately put the smaller darker one behind her. She was fixing him with a glare that could only be described as completely terrifying.

Ray wasn’t fazed. His sergeant was known far and wide as the Iceman, and he’d had worse glares directed at him over much smaller irritants. They didn’t know about the Iceman at this end of the world (something which Ray had gleefully mocked his sergeant for, after the first time that Brad said to someone, “The names’s Colbert,” and got nothing but a blank stare) so he refrained from explaining this to the women. “ _Hello_ , ladies,” he said again, and tried a leer.

It didn’t go down well. “Touch either one of us, and I’ll carve out your guts,” the redhead said, complete and horrible certainty in her tone. The threat was better than Brad usually managed, Ray grudgingly acknowledged, and decided that it would be wise to pursue a different path of approach.

“Wasn’t going to, I’m pure as the driven snow,” he said. “I was just innocently looking for the privy, and now I’m being threatened with horrible violence. Is that any way to treat one of your brave liberators?”

“You didn’t liberate _me_ ,” the redhead said. “We’ve been pretty busy liberating ourselves.” The dark-haired one, peering out from behind her friend, gave Ray an evil look that he interpreted as agreement with the redhead.

“Are you Borogravian or Zlobenian?” it occurred to him to ask. 

He received a narrow-eyed suspicious stare, but the redhead evidently decided that it wouldn’t be giving away any state secrets if she answered. “Borogravian.”

“Oh, whoops, my mistake. I think you’re the ones we were supposed to crush beneath our iron heel, except you’ve gone and messed it all up by calling a truce. And I was so looking forward to a nice long war, too! That’s the problem with these little countries, no commitment.” He manufactured what he thought was a rather good pout, but abandoned it a moment later as a thought occurred. “Here, have you heard anything about these female sol...diers…” He trailed off slowly, as it occurred to him that both women were wearing an odd hodgepodge of male and female clothes, and both had extremely short hair, and both definitely looked like they’d know what to do if holding something sharp and presented with any soft parts of a man’s body. “Huh,” he finished.

“Yes, mister,” the redhead said. “I’m Tonker, and _that’s_ Lofty, and we’ve taken the shilling and kissed the Duchess, and you’re not to breathe a word of what you saw or we’ll find you and -”

She paused for breath, and Lofty said, “And burn you.” She sounded sanguine about the prospect.

Ray shook his head. “No,” he said. And then, on an impulse, he saluted. “Good job, men.” They glared. “Women.” They glared. “Privates, will that do?”

Both women returned the salute, almost automatically. “That’ll do, corporal,” Tonker said, sounding a little mollified. “Privy’s that way, you got turned around.”

“Thanks,” Ray said, and left them to it. They’d just stopped a war, a little celebration was allowed.


End file.
